


genesis

by mythic_bitch_0



Series: bare: flashbacks [5]
Category: bare: A Pop Opera - Hartmere/Intrabartolo
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 08:48:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17505401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythic_bitch_0/pseuds/mythic_bitch_0
Summary: this is their moment, but not their beginning.





	genesis

**Author's Note:**

> A flashback scene from the Bare novelization. For updates, follow me on tumblr @ifprayerwastheanswer

_January, sophomore year_

* * *

 

It takes a while for Jason to realize how happy he is inside his dorm room, and how truly miserable he is outside of it.

He's going through the motions. Getting great grades - straight A's, of course. A team player, invaluable, in every sport he participates in. Debate club. Extracurriculars. He's a model student, and he's popular, with lots of friends, but it isn't until he locks the door to his dorm that he realizes how exhausting his day his, how much energy keeping that smile up takes.

He's used to it, he supposes. His life has never been about what brings him joy, so he settles for content. It's strange, but he really doesn't notice how much time he spends pretending to be happy until he realizes that in his dorm, he doesn't have to pretend.

And it's Peter, of course, that makes him so happy, that creates a space in which he can be himself. Jason can lie to himself about a lot of things, but he knows the truth deep down. It's because of Peter. He replays the one forbidden kiss, that night the power went out - he can almost feel the way Peter's lips had brushed against his neck, his ear, so electric that he had almost been surprised to open his eyes and see there were no sparks of light flying around the room, illuminating a breathless moment.

He wishes the power would go out again. He's spent a long time suppressing that thought, but you know what, fuck it, he _does_. As he enters their room, locking it behind him almost automatically, he's thinking idly, not even half serious, about sneaking down to the fuse box, throwing the breaker maybe, whatever it takes, when Peter smiles at him from his bed, where he's reclining with a book.

That goddamn smile, he hates how it levels him, makes him weak. But as Jason looks at him carefully today, he finds he recognizes that smile - recognizes that shy, scared excitement lurking behind his eyes. Peter wishes the power would go out again, too, he realizes, he doesnt regret it at all... and on the heels of that, an idea that fills him with such a thrill that he feels the hair on his neck stand up. Peter would welcome his embrace. He would want him... _too_ , he admits, finally admits to himself that he _does_ want him, and desperately.

He's emboldened, and he strides across the room, shedding his messenger bag and climbing onto the bed, grabbing Peter's face before he can lose his courage.

He kisses him, and it's nothing like the last time, that first time they've never spoken of, because Peter is ready this time, and he responds with enthusiasm, eager to show his affection.

“Mmm,” Peter groans, as their mouths meet - it's beyond anything either of them has experienced, beyond what they could have imagined. “What - what are you doing, Jase?”

Jason falls back, and a sigh that almost turns into a sob rises in his throat. “I don't - I don't know, I don't - please don't tell.”

“I won't,” Peter swears, his hands bridging the distance between them, pulling him in again. “I won't, but please, don't stop.”

“Oh, _God_.”

The genie is out of the lamp, somehow - they can't pull back, they can't turn away. Maybe that one stolen kiss could be forgiven, a confusing lapse, maybe they could tell themselves sharing the same bed occasionally is understandable, but this, this - hunger, this passion - is so huge and overwhelming that it rocks the foundation of who they are. It levels them. It changes them. Transforms them.

“Jason,” Peter breathes, and they kiss like they've invented kissing, like it was created for them and their pleasure alone.

Words and phrases of encouragement and pleasure and praise are mumbled quietly in their dorm, and Jason is somewhat surprised to find himself excited by it, straining for every syllable from Peter's perfect lips, needing those sweet words like he needed oxygen a minute ago.

Finally, Jason draws back - he's laying on Peter's bed, his arms wrapped around him, and when did that happen?

Regret wells up in him - what has he done? - warring with the indescribable joy that had exploded inside his head every second their lips meet. On instinct, he presses their lips together again in a chaste kiss, and the fear and anxiety quiet themselves, silenced by the taste of Peter, the feeling of his warm skin.

"I need you," Peter whispers.

“Don't -” Jason starts to say, _don't say that, please, you'll make it too real_ , but he's interrupted.

“I have to say it, Jason, I have to tell you,” Peter bursts out, sounding fierce. “I feel - I feel - I'm - ”

Jason's skin colors, reddens as he darts his eyes away from Peter's green ones, staring at the ceiling, staring past them, past this conversation. “I know. Me too.”

Peter let out a huge breath, and Jason is surprised to see him smiling, looking exhilarated - looking _happy_ about this - fact, this way he is, that has brought Jason such shame _._

“You're sure - really? You're really - ”

Jason nods. He is ashamed, he knows it's wrong to be like this. But he can't help it - he can't help how he feels, and God knows how hard he's tried, because he knows it's wrong, it _has_ to be wrong, but nothing has ever felt so right as Peter's body pressed against his. “I'm...I'm sure.”

But Peter - Peter looks like a kid on Christmas, like someone whose wishes have been granted. “So - so can we - can we do this?” he asks, not really knowing how to phrase it, or even what to ask for.

Jason tells him nothing but the truth. “I don't think I'll be able to stop.”

That night when they retire to their separate beds for the evening, after they say good night, Peter speaks into the darkness, haltingly.

“Today...this is amazing. That you feel the same way. Because you're...you're everything, Jason.”

This is Jason's breaking point, his heart feeling like it's so full it's going to shatter, so full that his eyes prick with unwashed tears. Peter is so happy - and Jason feels that happiness tugging on the edges of his mind, too, because he loves everything about Peter, about being close to him. Today has been amazing for him, too, and he feels happiness pulling on his heart, but the doubt and fear of doing wrong, of being caught, are so strong.

“I feel - the same way about you,” Jason says, wishing his voice didn't sound so thick. “We can't tell anyone though. Ever, okay? Not ever.”

Peter is quick to agree. “No. Never. I'll never say anything. I swear.”

“We have to act - ” he forces the word out, sour on his tongue, “ _normal_ , outside of here. We can't...they can't guess.”

"I know," Peter says quietly.

“But here...when we're in here...I don't want to pretend. I'm tired of pretending,” Jason admits, his voice low.

Peter sounds relieved. “Me too. I don't want to pretend with you. Not in here at least. We'll do what we have to do out there, but let's promise that we won't pretend in here to each other, okay?”

Jason smiles into the dark. "I promise."

It's their moment. It's Genesis, _let there be light,_ illuminating the loneliness and fear they've been clinging to for so long _._ Outside of the dorm Jason is full of fear and shame, and they desperately play pretend. But this moment belongs to them.

It looks like a beginning. It's the first time their honesty has extended this far, the first time their feelings for each other have intertwined and they've allowed themselves to admit it. You could think it's their beginning, but it's actually the culmination of something that began long ago, when a twelve year old Jason made eye contact with a green-eyed boy, and he has never been the same.


End file.
